


A Secret  Sacred Light

by LexiCon



Category: Deltarune (Video Game)
Genre: Disassociation, Gen, Kris Has PTSD, Male Kris (Deltarune), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-09-27 15:52:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17164856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexiCon/pseuds/LexiCon
Summary: Kris Dreemur thought he was an ordinary kid. Well as ordinary as the only human living in a town full of monsters can be. But after trip to a strange world underneath his school with his class partner unlocks a prophecy, Kris and Susie are in for a wild ride. Can a ghost and a grocery store owner help solve the identity of the mysterious "Knight"?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Sigh, well here I go, jumping into the void that is the Deltarune fandom. Hopefully, I can actually keep an update schedule.
> 
> Probably not, but stranger things have happened.

Prologue

 

 

In the quiet dim light of the tallest house at the top of the highest hill, there lay a teen nestled under their blanket. The teen shivered beneath his plain blue comforter, his skin flush with what one might expect was a fever. His joints ached from his near constant shaking. Every bit of his flesh, his face, his hands and his feet, itched so bad that they burned.

 

OUT! He needed it OUT! This thing, this weight that sat heavy in his chest. Soon, it all became too much for him to handle and he flung himself onto the threadbare carpet that covered the wooden floor. Groaning in agony, the teen dragged himself from the ground and staggered toward the door. His hurried pace slowed when he passed by his faded old red wagon, worn with the slow passage of time. Upon it sat a tarnished and bent birdcage from a pet long since passed.

 

He turned to face the cage, DETERMINATION filled him suddenly and at once, he knew what to do.

 

“You wish to be free from me?” asked a voice so soft that he could not tell if it was male or female. It was the same voice that had been whispering to him all day. He moaned as his clutched at his chest with one hand and yanked at his his dark brown hair, pulling at it hard enough to loose a few of the strands. He growled in frustration.

 

“Do as you will,” it crooned. “Know that it will be harder for me to help you once it is done.” Well that was just fine, wasn’t? He thought. He’d never asked for its help in the first place. He’d been doing just fine before it came along.

 

It tutted at him in much the same fashion as he mother did when he refused to get out of bed on time. He fell to his knees, the hold on his chest tightening.

 

“Take me out if you wish it, Child,” the voice chided. “But I have a feeling that you will need my guidance again for what is to come.”

 

‘Shut up,’ he snarled and without warning, clenched his hand and plunged his nails through his shirt and into his flesh. He gasped. The blind pain was more than anything he had ever experience in his life. They pressed harder and harder and deeper and deeper, the agony so great that no sound could leave his lungs as he opened his mouth to scream.

 

Finally, just when he could see the blackness in the corners of his eyes, he heard a rip and a sickening “squelch” and felt something pulsing in his bloody fingers. Breathing heavily, he held it out in front of him, wondering at the object that was glowing brightly.

 

It was a small red colored heart. It reminded him of one of those cheesy cartoon hearts or… his eyes widened as the ghostly voice flooded the room.

 

“Your soul.” it said. The tiny appendage pulsed brighter with every word. “The culmination of your entire being.”

 

“No, no, no,” they breathed. Panicking, he tossed the heart as hard as he could away from him. Out of pure luck, or maybe some divine force, the soul slammed into the birdcage, the force tipped the cage over, and it crashed into the bottom of the wagon.

The soul remained silent as Kris slumped over onto his hands and knees. His entire body shuddered with wracking sobs.

 

He was sure that his mother could hear him as he tried his best to muffle the sound with the fibers of the carpet.

 

Eventually, the teen’s body gave into the sheer exhaustion he was feeling. He slept, curled into a ball on the floor, with the dim light of a lost soul, bathing the room with an eerie glow.

 


	2. Part One: chapter one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kris hates mornings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whooooa what's this? A timely update? 
> 
> Who is this strange writer who actually meets her deadlines?
> 
> Chapter warnings: Mentions of symptoms of PTSD, mentions of panic attacks, talk of gore and fighting, talk of bullying.

_"The world is so predictable. Things happen suddenly. We want to fell we are in control of our own existence. In some ways we are, in some ways, we are not. We are ruled by the forces of chance and coincidence." - Paul Auster_

 

 

 

Chapter one

 

Kris felt absolutely awful. His limbs felt heavy and numb, his stomach felt like one giant knot. And if he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that there was someone driving a jack hammer into the side of his head. And his chest…

 

He scrunched his nose, trying to pinpoint exactly what the feeling was… His chest just felt empty. Like every emotion had been ripped and torn to shreds.

 

“ _Well of course you feel that way, Child,”_ Kris groaned. It was the voice that had plagued his mind all day yesterday. The teen sat up and his blanket slid down to his waist. The aches in his body momentarily forgotten, he searched the darkness of his room searching.

 

He fell back against his pillows and sighed. He turned around in his bed, to try and get a few more snippets of sleep before his mother came to get him for school.

 

“ _Wow, not even going to wonder how it is that you got into your bed?”_ asked the voice. Kris growled and curled into his blanket. But now that he actually thought about it, hadn’t he fallen asleep on the carpet?

 

“ _What you didn’t think your mother would hear you carrying on like that? You made an obnoxious amount of noise.”_ Even if he couldn’t see the person the voice belonged to, he could still tell that it was smirking. He lifted a hand slightly and gave his room the middle finger. The voice laughed lightly.

 

 

 

 

 

“Well good morning Mr. Grumpy face.” came a voice from right beside him. The teen jumped, however he instantly regretted it as every muscle in his body protested the movement. He groaned softly.

 

“Oh my poor Child,” the voice soothed. A warm hand caressed his forehead. He leaned into the touch, greedily accepting the comfort.

 

“Mama…?” he whispered, using his childhood name for his mother. A dip in his bed let him know that he was correct in his assumption.

 

“Hush, Dear,” his mother said. “Everything is alright now. You’re safe, I’m here.” Kris turned into his mother’s body. He soaked in the warmth of his mother’s fur for a few seconds before remembering the floating soul that was floating in his birdcage. How in the seven hells was he supposed to explain that?

 

He froze, trying to come up with some excuse as to why it was there.

 

“ _Fortunately for you, it seems as though your mother cannot see me,”_ chimed in the voice. Huh, so the voice was coming from the soul… He winced inwardly. Well, even if she hadn’t been able to see it, such a loud voice was _bound_ to get her attention. He blinked and looked up at her when his mother gave no reaction to the body-less laughter.

 

“ _I wouldn’t worry about that either_ ,” it said. “ _Unless, your mother is capable of hearing your thoughts as well_.” He cringed.

 

‘ _You can hear my thoughts?’_ he asked, trying hard not to look toward the corner of the room.

 

“ _Yup, sure can. How else do you think we’ve been communicating all of this time? It’s not like I can speak out loud._ ”

 

Well, wasn’t that just dandy. Kris shifted uneasily. He wasn’t sure how comfortable he was around a being (if you could call it that) that only he could see and hear.

 

“ _Aw, don’t be like that,_ ” cooed the voice. “ _Just think of me as your super special secret friend._ ” Kris scrunched his nose in distaste.

 

“ _I would rather not be friends with something that can control my mind, thanks,”_ he sneered. The soul seemed unaffected.

 

“ _There’s no need to be so rude, it’s not like it was my choice to occupy the mind of a teenage boy.”_ Kris just barely stopped himself from responding out loud with a few choice words of his own.

 

“ _Yes, yes,”_ the soul said sarcastically. _“I’m a satanic demon. Perhaps instead of being petty with me, you could answer Toriel, she’s trying to get your attention.”_ Kris pursed his lips, realizing that the stupid thing was right. His mother had been talking to him and he’d pretty much been ignoring her until right that minute.

 

“Kris?” she said. “Are you with me Dear?” The boy looked up tiredly at her and nodded slightly in reply. His mother smiled widely at him.

 

“There you are, My Child,” she said. Kris yawned and pulled away from her, stretching his arms high over his head.

 

“Morning, Mom,” he greeted. His mother laughed and tousled his hair.

 

“Good morning, My Child. How are you feeling?” she asked. Kris thought for a moment, rolled his stiff neck to get rid of some of the kinks. He sighed as it gave a satisfying _pop_. He took a long look around his room in the dim morning light from his small window.

 

“Like I’ve been training with Officer Undyne for three years.” he replied. “I’m so exhausted; I could sleep for 900 years.”

 

His mother’s laughter rang in his ears. “Well, I have already called and spoken to Ms. Alphys,” she said with a gentle smile. “It’s been a while since your last attack, so I also called Dr. Mettaton as well.” Kris blushed and shrank into himself. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed about his condition. His parents, brother and therapist had all assured him that PTSD was nothing to be ashamed about; especially considering what he had gone through before being adopted by the Dreemur family.

 

But it wasn’t like he enjoyed it being brought up.

 

“Uh, right,” he mumbled. “I’m uh, sorry that I woke you up last night. Thanks for not letting me sleep on a carpet.”

 

He jumped when he felt his mother’s arms slide around him in a tight hug. He returned it just as hard, burrowing his face in her purple blouse.

  
“Of course, My Child,” she whispered into his hair. “You know I would do anything for you.”

 

Not for the first time, Kris thought about how amazing his mother was. It couldn’t have been easy for her to have such a messed up kid. And she managed to handle his moods and issues with such grace and support. He couldn’t have asked for a better family to be adopted into.

 

“I love you Mom,” he said.

 

“I love you too, Kris, so very much.” she responded. “Please don’t ever forget that.” They hugged for a bit longer before the teen started to pull away. His mother let go, making sure to caress his face as she did so.

 

“Get some rest Dear,” she said, getting up from the bed. Kris laid back against his pillows once more and nodded tiredly. “We’ll talk more when I get home.”

 

She turned and started walking out of the room. “Remember, I’m only a phone call away, don’t hesitate if you need me.”

 

Kris sighed as the door closed with a sharp click. “Well, I guess I’ll just go back to sleep then...” he murmured and closed his eyes.

 

“ _That sounds like a fantastic idea.”_ The boy jolted. He had completely forgotten about the soul.

 

“ _No one asked your opinion.”_ he thought. The soul laughed yet again. Kris growled. Why did the only being who found him funny have to be a disembodied soul?

 

“ _I know for a fact that I’m not the only one. But you probably should sleep. I can see from the circles under your eyes from here.”_

 

“ _How do I know that you won’t just possess me again?”_ he asked, feeling his eyes drooping in exhaustion. He really was very tired.

 

“ _Not how that works, I’m afraid. But seriously, you should sleep. I can explain more when you wake up.”_

 

Kris mumbled in agreement before slowly slipping back into dreamland.

 

 

 

Ch/end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so not an incredibly exciting chapter, I know. But hey, it not like the kid is gonna be up for anything too intense after the night he just had. 
> 
> I'm gonna try to go for a twice weekly update on Tuesdays and Fridays. We'll see how long that lasts lol
> 
> See you next week!!!


	3. Part One: ch 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lazy mornings and sad memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of exposition in this small chapter. I didn't have a whole lot time this week but I didn't want you all to think that I had abandoned this fic.

Chapter two

 

 

When Sans the Skeleton opened his eyes that morning, he knew that something was different. Laying in his bed, the short skeleton tried to convince himself to actually get up and start his day. He was just so goddamn tired. This was the fourth universe he and his brother had run to in an attempt to escape the total annihilation of their own.

 

His soul burned in agony at the memory. The terrified screams ans the blood of humans mixed with the dust of monsters plagued his nightmares. Seeing the familiar faces of his friends and loved ones all happy and smiling in each new universe they traveled to, only to be violently murdered by a strange force was nearly too much. The pain was worse than going through 1000 genocide routes.

 

Well, at least he still had his brother.

 

Knowing that Papyrus was sleeping in the room beside his was a great comfort to his chipped soul. He rolled onto his side and sighed. This universe was calmer than the last ones had been. Maybe this was a chance for them to finally settle down and take it easy for a while. Here it seemed that monsters had never been forced to live underground and although monster still lived mostly among themselves, they were at peace with the humans.

 

“Heh,” he laughed quietly and closed his eyes. Seeing that lone human kid yesterday was shocking. A human living in a town full of monsters brought back memories of another fearlessly determined human child. Hell, they had even looked similar.

 

Sans grunted at the thought of the little human who had freed he and his friends from their prisons. Her death was probably one of the hardest to accept. He just couldn’t fathom how such a bright and strong young woman who had represented the whole of monster-kind as their ambassador after almost single-handedly breaking the barrier that kept them captive, could be so easily defeated. The finality of feeling her soul shatter right in front of him as she stood against the being who called himself “The Knight.”

 

As devastated as Sans was, it was nothing compared to the grief that Papyrus was feeling. The two of them had been growing closer over the past few years and both Toriel and Sans were sure that the two were finally on their way toward a real romantic relationship. Until of course the massacre happened.

 

The skeleton groaned and rubbed at his eyes, banishing his dark thoughts. They wouldn’t do him any good now. All he could do was continue living day to day and pray that they had found a safe haven in this sleepy little town.

 

“But that kid...” he thought, pulling himself out of the warm nest of blanket. The kid gave him an odd feeling. There was something ‘off’ about him, especially when he had spoken to him outside the store. He and Pap had been in the town for less than a day. No one knew who they were here and as far as he knew, there were no skeletons alive in this universe. So why had he told him that it was nice to see him again?

 

 

 

A quiet knock jolted him from his thoughts. He yawned. Gods, it was way too early for such depressing thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah, Paps,” he said, stretching and cracking his back. “I’m awake. I’ll be down in a minute.”

 

“I um, made breakfast, if you are hungry before opening your store.” came his brother’s voice from the other side of the door.

 

Sans’ ever present smile grew wider. One of the many things that Sans attributed to Frisk’s influence was the fact that she had convinced Paps that there were foods in the world other than spaghetti. Not because his spaghetti wasn’t the best in the world but wouldn’t it be fun to learn how to make other kinds of food? She’d told him. And because the younger skeleton could never tell her ‘no’ he’d immediately gave in.

 

Now since running from their universe, the taller of the two brothers had poured his soul into perfecting every single dish that he and his dear friend had created together.

 

“Alright Papyrus,” he croaked. “I appreciate it. I’ll be down in a few.” He heard a hum of agreement from his brother and the slow echo of his fading footsteps.

 

Sans sighed heavily and slipped on his pink fluffy house shoes over his worn white socks. Well no matter what he was feeling. He had a store to open in this perfectly ordinary town. He’d see the kid later today anyway.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo yeah, super short and super super late, but I do actually have an excuse this time. I recently got a promotion at work which means I work longer and earlier hours, so I don't have quite as much free time to write. Not to worry though, I have a pretty clear vision of where this story is going so hopefully once I get settled, things should go much smoother.


End file.
